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FIRST KISS=TUESDAY (from Judy Does Christmas by Debra Salonen)

First Kiss= TUESDAY

Christmas in July-DS

Debra Salonen-4358-Color-SmAll year long, I look forward to the fun and sun of summer. Through the brutal winter months, I dream of relaxing on the beach and smiling as the summer sun shines down. That’s why it’s so strange that when summer is in full swing, I’m thinking of winter. Not just winter, but the month of December and all of the warmth and comfort of the holiday season.

 Christmas time bring out the best in people. It’s a time of kindness, joy and the occasional Christmas miracle. If that’s what you’re looking for, look no further. You can find all of those things right now, while avoiding the cold, the snow, and the shopping.

I was lucky enough to be invited to join 10 other fabulous (rock star!) authors in a month-long promotion called Christmas in July! I’ll share their titles and links at the end of this post, but first, here’s a first kiss snippet from my contribution:

Judy Does Christmas

The Judy Chronicles, Book 2 –

“Old enough to know better, still too young to care!” 

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As much as she wanted to blame the mid-day wine for her fatigue–aggravated by the hard cider she’d had with her pizza–in truth, she hadn’t been her usual perky self for weeks. Some mornings, she had to drag herself to the gym. Normally, she could count on an endorphin high after a workout, but not tonight. Even the promise of delicious sex with the man she loved more than life wasn’t enough to keep her eyes open.

“Damn holiday stress,” she muttered, hoping to grab a quick catnap…fully dressed…on their bed until Wiley got home.

She must have dozed off because the next thing she heard was Wiley’s voice calling out her name as he walked down the hallway.

“Judy? Honey? Are you okay? Don’t you want to get undressed?”

The effort it took to open her eyes made the process feel like slow motion. “Are my eyelids glued shut?”

Two soft lips kissed her cheekbones. “Nope. You’re just tired. I know how much you hate to shop for clothes. And it is the holidays.”

She held out a hand for his help sitting up. Her feet hit the thick carpet like bags of cement. Thunk. Thunk. “Remind me to make an appointment to see your doctor. I’d hoped to wait till our new marriage warranty expired before somebody confirmed my long list of flaws, but if I don’t perk up, you’ll trade me in for a new model anyway.”

He sat and looped one strong, reassuring arm around her shoulders. “You goof. Life doesn’t come with any guarantees.”

“You already had one sick wife…”

He nuzzled her neck. “Different circumstances completely. Apples and oranges.” His lips felt warm against her cool skin. “Your life has changed in a hundred different ways over the past few months. By all means, get a check-up. Maybe a B-12 shot. But the holidays wear everybody down.”

She took a deep breath, ignoring the voice in her head that sounded a lot like Alvin and the Chipmunks singing, “Hurry, Christmas, don’t be late.” The damn season couldn’t get over fast enough to satisfy her.

She turned into him and hugged him fiercely. “Have I told you today that I love you?”

“Once or twice. But I never get tired of hearing it.” He kissed her lips. “By the way, I got a text from Carla as I was leaving the gym. She asked if you liked everything.”

Judy tensed. She couldn’t help herself. “What did you say?”

“I told her you thought the place looked great, and because we’re both tied up with other interests, we trusted her to handle the details for the party.”

She rubbed her forehead against the hollow of his cheek. “Tied up, huh? Are you suggesting something kinky?”

“Maybe. Shall we discuss our options in the shower?”

Judy took a deep breath and got to her feet. A dozen or more tiny silver dots danced across her vision for a moment, but they quickly disappeared. She grabbed his hand. “Great idea. Turn the steam generator on, too. I’m thinking hot and heavy. And, no, that’s not a reference to my weight.”

He backed her up until she was pinned to the wall. “Your weight is perfect. How many times do I have to tell you that?”

A million and two. Just enough to make up for hearing people call me fat most of my life. “I’ll let the doctor be the judge of that, Judge. Come on. Let’s get naked, steamy and slippery.”

~~~~

Buy links:  AMAZON    Barnes & Noble   iTunes Store   KOBO

And don’t miss any of these SURE-TO-BE holiday faves:

514fsz6DpZL._SX331_BO1,204,203,200_A Mommy for Christmas by Maggie Shayne

Originally released in 2005 and titled, Feels Like Home, A MOMMY FOR CHRISTMAS has been substantially revised and contains brand new scenes never before published.

All Tyler wants for Christmas is a Mommy.

Not to walk without his crutches, or to skip his next surgery. Just a mommy.

 His father, Chicago Cop Jimmy Corona is determined to find him one in his hometown of Big Falls Oklahoma. But trouble follows him there, trouble that could get them both killed.

 Once shy and awkward, Kara Brand has blossomed into a graceful beauty with the biggest heart in the state of Oklahoma. Jimmy thinks she’s the perfect mommy-candidate, and she falls in love with little Ty at first sight.

 Jimmy plans to win her and wed her, not to love her. But he never intended for her to get caught in between a murderous criminal and his little boy.

A heartwarming, tear-inducing, holiday miracle kind of story you’ll never forget…
Amazon Barnes & Noble iTunes Kobo

51cntH6Q98L._SX335_BO1,204,203,200_

Angel Be Good by Kathy Carmichael

“Heartwarming, Sexy and Fun”

Billionaire CEO Nat Danvers has good looks, money, power, prestige—everything—except the one thing he really needs. But only in the loneliest corners of his frozen heart is he aware something is missing. Christmas Eve arrives to find Nat alone in his penthouse office, filling out layoff notices while his employees unknowingly celebrate at the office holiday party. In breezes the most incredibly beautiful woman he’s ever seen. Daphne, part angel, part human, has been sent by the Angelic Council to teach Nat some tough lessons in the hope his hardened heart will melt. She has only one night in which to help him.

With the clock ticking before she must go, can love find a way to touch them both?

Amazon  Barnes & Noble  iTunes  Kobo

51UvcqHgauL._SX379_BO1,204,203,200_

Christmas With The McRaes by Teresa Hill

Spend Christmas with the McRaes, Books 1, 2 and 3 in the series plus a brand new, bonus novella: Welcome Lizzie

TWELVE DAYS — Book 1

EDGE OF HEAVEN — Book 2

BED OF LIES — Book 3

BONUS NOVELLA ONLY AVAILABLE IN THIS BOX SET:  WELCOME LIZZIE

Amazon  Barnes & Noble  iTunes

517fdqDKAdL._SX310_BO1,204,203,200_

Comfort & Joy by Judith Arnold

In the season of miracles, the greatest miracle of all is love.

For Robin Greer, Christmas is about tradition and family. After her army-brat childhood, she wants nothing more than to plant solid roots and create a stable, permanent home for her young son, Philip. Christmas is a time to celebrate that home, and she and Philip celebrate in style, decorating their house, baking treats and listening to holiday music.

Jesse Lawson’s view of the holiday is quite the opposite. Growing up in an oppressively pious family, he has rejected religion. To him, Christmas is about hypocrisy and commercialism. A legal aid attorney, he can’t enjoy the spirit of the season when his inner-city clients are facing eviction in the middle of a cold New England winter.

 Yet he can’t resist Robin and her open-hearted embrace of all things Christmas. And she can’t resist this thoughtful, questioning, complex man who seems to understand the true meaning of the holiday better than she does.

Amazon  Barnes & Noble  iTunes  Kobo

 

510q6OLnNwL._SX331_BO1,204,203,200_Dakota Wedding by Lisa Mondello

If you’re a fan of western romance, contemporary romance, stories full of angst and emotion, and sexy cowboy and military heroes, then you’ll enjoy the Dakota Hearts.

Ian McKinnon was just getting steady on his feet, looking forward to the opening of the Wounded Veterans Center and a big McKinnon wedding celebration, when tragedy struck again. The soldier who’d saved his life while in the military has died. He’s charged with his most important mission: find his friend Carlos’s family in Mexico or become guardian and raise Carlos’s children. The only mandatory stipulation of his friend’s will was that Ian live under the same roof with Abby Townsend, a firefighter from Carlos’s firehouse. Abby knew the kids well and she could help ease them all through the transition of becoming a family. Okay, so Ian may not be daddy material, but he’d grown up with a whole lot of McKinnons running around. He could handle the kids just fine. The beautiful Abby Townsend was another story.

Amazon  Barnes & Noble  iTunes  Kobo

 51vvjQ94T7L._SX322_BO1,204,203,200_Home for Christmas by Kathryn Shay

HOME FOR CHRISTMAS was formerly published as A CHRISTMAS LEGACY, part of a series for Harlequin. The book has been revised to be a stand alone novel in its own right.

When Jacob Steele returned home after fifteen years, it wasn’t to reconnect with the town that loved him. Instead, his motivation was purely financial. He needed capital and he wasn’t above claiming the inheritance bequeathed to him by the father whom he felt betrayed him. Unfortunately for the man who now calls himself Jay Lawrence, the inheritance comes with conditions. These conditions will keep Jay in Riverbend for a month working in the family bookstore. If he decides not to fulfill the terms, the bookstore and the farmhouse he used to cherish, go to the manager, Kate McMann. Jay isn’t about to let a woman, whose ambiguous relationship with his father is questionable, get her hands on his inheritance. He sets out to confront her never knowing that she and her twin daughters would change his plans, not to mention his life, forever.

Amazon  Barnes & Noble  iTunes  Kobo

511zLryW6IL._SX331_BO1,204,203,200_

Still of the Night By Dee Davis

In the still of the night…

Christmas is coming and Jenny Fitzgerald couldn’t care less. She’s getting divorced, and her life is in tatters. And just when she’s thinking it couldn’t possibly be worse, her husband is killed on the job, an undercover operation gone bad. In the midst of her grief, Jenny is confronted with a killer. A hunter who will stop at nothing to see her dead…

Award winning author Dee Davis’s holiday romantic suspense novella is re-released with a new epilogue!

 Amazon Barnes & Noble  iTunes  Kobo

51oncdjib0L._SX311_BO1,204,203,200_Texas Christmas Bride by Jean Brashear
From New York Times and USAToday bestselling Texas romance author Jean Brashear.

It’s the first Christmas in Sweetgrass Springs, Texas for several newcomers who have found a real home for the first time—or found home again. As Jackson Gallagher works to save his hometown from withering away by relocating his business empire there, the only gift he really wants is to marry the teenage sweetheart he thought he’d lost forever—but Veronica Patton Butler has other hearts to care for, however much she loves Jackson.

Come join the fun…In eccentric, lovable, unforgettable Sweetgrass Springs…where hope never fades and love never dies.

HOLIDAY COOKIE RECIPES INCLUDED!
Amazon  Barnes & Noble  iTunes  Kobo

51X7fdNmr1L._SX331_BO1,204,203,200_The Games by Patricia McLinn

Medals can be won, careers can be made, hearts can be lost.

From the pomp of Opening Ceremonies to the good-byes of Closing Ceremonies, join three remarkable women during the Winter Olympics. Tessa Rutledge, once an Olympic champion figure skater, returns as a coach, encountering her first love – and heartbreak – and testing her ability to forgive. Alpine skier Kyle Armstrong has made a mistake that could cost her Olympic gold and any hope of reconciling with the man she loves. Biathlete Rikki Lodge is just happy to be at the Games, until she meets a hockey player who demands that she puts everything on the line

Let The Games begin!

 Amazon  Barnes & Noble  iTunes  Kobo

51Q83Y8G5uL._SX331_BO1,204,203,200_The Christmas Princess by Patricia McLinn

A Princess for a few weeks …

The coming Christmas season isn’t looking great for April Gareaux. Her job is uninspiring, her engagement is off, and she has nowhere to live.

Then comes an extraordinary offer – spend the holidays in Washington, D.C., with King Jozef of Bariavak as his possible long-lost granddaughter. Even more extraordinary is the man behind the offer and the one who will be beside her through the coming weeks, Hunter Pierce.

King Jozef has known tragedy in his life. Now, comes this lovely young woman bringing joy to his holidays. How can he resist dabbling in some royal matchmaking. Wouldn’t it be delightful if he could give April a Christmas gift she will never forget… Her Prince for a Lifetime

Amazon  Barnes & Noble  iTunes  Kobo

And a special treat…
61+5iEmbiwL._SX331_BO1,204,203,200_Wyoming Wildflowers – The Beginning by Patricia McLinn

One look, a passionate love . . . and then they part . . . Forever?

Before the bestselling and award-winning Wyoming Wildflowers saga began, there was another love story, one that laid the foundation for all those that came after. A love between a cowboy and an unexpected woman. A love at first sight … Ed Currick’s and Donna Roberts’ worlds couldn’t have been any more different – a rancher from Wyoming and an up-and-coming Broadway musical actress on a national tour. What could have been a momentary encounter sparks desire . . . and more. But can there be anything but heartbreak ahead when they have only days before their dreams pull them apart?

Amazon  Barnes & Noble  ITunes  Kobo

and

Enjoy Patricia’s entire Wyoming Wildflowers collection
Wyoming Wildflowers: The Beginning (Snowberry) – prequel
Almost a Bride (Indian Paintbrush)
Match Made in Wyoming (Fireweed)
My Heart Remembers (Bur Marigold)
Jack’s Heart (Yellow Monkeyflower), new release in 2015

Merry reading, my friends!

Deb

Just made this meme–so fitting, don’t you think?

HEA Judy Does Christmas

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EAT=LOVE=TUESDAY: Dee Davis’s Best Mac ‘n Cheese in NYC

(Apologies for the strange post that arrived in your inbox today–Valentine’s Day after Easter? I can’t explain the phantom post, but I’m willing to point the finger at a new host server that is apparently giving my webhost fits.) Again, so sorry, for the extra post, but HERE is the one that was supposed to go out today.

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In case you missed this fab recipe, here’s a yummy reprise from my friend, Dee Davis.

This Mac + Cheese recipe was voted a New York favorite. And her charming, cosmopolitan book, A Match Made on Madison, is part of a #Kindle Countdown Deal. 5 days only! Grab it today for just 99¢.

“Sometimes love needs a little help!”

Macaroni and Cheese (adapted from recipe from Artisanal Fromagerie and Bistro, NYC)
Recipe Type: American
Cuisine: main dish
Author: Dee Davis
Serves: 6
This classic dish is served at Artisanal Fromagerie & Bistro and is known as “the best macaroni and cheese in town.”
Ingredients
  • 3/4 cup panko bread crumbs
  • 1/4 cup Parmigiano-Reggiano
  • 5 1/2 tablespoons butter
  • 1/4 cup plus 2 tablespoons all-purpose flour
  • 3 cups whole milk
  • salt
  • Black pepper in a mill
  • 3 cups Gruyere or Comte, grated (from 6 to 8 ounces)
  • 1/2 cup mascarpone (can substitute ricotta or farmers cheese)
  • 1lb dry pasta
Instructions
  1. Preheat the oven to 350°F. Pour 2 quarts of water into a 3-quart pot and bring to a boil over high heat.
  2. In a small sauce pan, melt 2 1/2 tablespoons of the butter over low heat. Add the bread crumbs and Parmigiano-Reggiano cheese, toss well, and set aside.
  3. Put the remaining 3 tablespoons butter in a 2-quart, heavy-bottomed saucepan and melt it over low heat. Add the flour and cook for 4 minutes, whisking constantly. Pour in the milk and cook for 4 minutes, whisking constantly. Add 2 teaspoons salt , 4 grinds of pepper (can substitute a shake or two of white pepper), the Gruyere and mascarpone, and continue to whisk until the cheese is well incorporated. Remove the pot from the heat and pour the cheese sauce into a large bowl.
  4. Add 2 tsp salt and the pasta to the boiling water and cook until al dente, approximately 8 minutes. Drain the macaroni in a colander and add it to the bowl with the cheese sauce. Mix well with a wooden spoon. (can just mix in the baking dish if your prefer).
  5. Pour the macaroni mixture into a 13-by-9-inch baking dish. Sprinkle the breadcrumb mixture evenly over the top of the macaroni and cheese. Bake until golden brown and bubbly, approximately 40 minutes. Serve.
  6. Also really good with one bag of Italian grated cheese (Kraft) – 2 cups. And chopped sharp cheddar. About a cup and a half. Instead of the gruyere and mascarpone.

After you’re satiated on the best Mac ‘n Cheese in NYC, you can settle down to read this witty, delightful romp.

A Match Made on Madison

 

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Here’s a snippet:

CHAPTER 1

Bemelmans Bar, The Carlyle Hotel, 35 E. 76th

“Best remembered as the creator of the classic Madeline books for children, Ludwig Bemelmans once joked he’d like his tombstone to read: “Tell Them It Was Wonderful.” Well, wonderful it was, and still is, at Bemelmans Bar. Named in honor of the legendary artist, Bemelmans is a timeless New York watering hole that has drawn socialites, politicians, movie stars and moguls for ”–www. theCarlyle.com

*****

“Another round please.” I signaled the tuxedo-clad waiter with an impervious twist of my hand, the gesture undoubtedly not nearly as regal as I supposed. But then dirty martinis will do that to you. Two is really the limit even for the most dedicated of drinkers. And we’d already had three.

But this was a celebration.

And I wasn’t paying the bill. Which was just as well.

Bemelmans is my idea of heaven when it comes to a bar. Small and intimate, with killer drinks, fiery-hot toasted edamame, and folksy art that puts one in mind of a children’s storybook, it’s absolutely perfect. But you could mortgage a Park Avenue apartment and still not have enough to pay the tab — especially on a martini bender. So better that it was Althea’s headache.

I’d save mine for tomorrow.

Althea Sevalas was my friend, mentor and sometimes rival. In truth, I’d absorbed all she had to teach me with the voracity of the young and hungry and then proceeded to go out and apply what I’d learned on my own.

Actually, I’m making it sound easier than it was. I don’t know that I’d ever have taken the leap, so to speak, if it hadn’t been for Franklin Pierpont’s tendency for dramatic scenes. Franklin is a billionaire geek with absolutely no social skills.

Althea had taken him on in a fit of absolute pity. And when his first match ended in a somewhat less than desirable way, he’d wound up standing on a ledge outside my office window – nineteen floors up. Obviously this sort behavior is not good for the matchmaking business, and Althea, who suffers from vertigo, tasked me with talking him down.

Suffice it to say that it was not one of my favorite assignments, but after showing half of Manhattan my Perele panties, and losing a Manolo to windowsill gymnastics, I managed to talk sense into the man.

Of course it didn’t hurt matters when it turned out that the policewoman who’d come to our rescue was not only a looker but the heir to a computer fortune. A definite sign from on high. So when Althea insisted on taking credit for handling the whole fiasco, I saw the writing on the wall, and with a little help from the Pierpont – policewoman merger, I started my own agency.

Anyway, at first there’d been understandable friction between us. After all I’d walked away with all Althea’s tricks of the trade so to speak. But with a little time she’d realized that Manhattan was big enough for both of us, and albeit warily, accepted me back into her circle of friends.

She wasn’t above twisting the knife a bit now and then though. And having been invited to the wedding of the century was a coup she’d no doubt lord over me for years to come. It was a first, and something I had to admit I aspired to achieve. Not that it was likely.

This was a one on fluke. Matchmakers simply aren’t considered wedding guest material. Too much a reminder of things best forgotten.

Which explains the reason for celebrating. And though it wasn’t really my triumph, I didn’t have a problem swizzling Bemelmans martini’s in Althea’s honor. Of course I’d brought reinforcements – my friend Cybil Baranski.

“So I heard that even though the gown cost half a million, the bride still looked like overfed farm stock.” Cybil adjusted her Oliver Peeple’s frames and leaned forward, eyes sparkling in anticipation.

Cybil and I have been friends since Trinity and believe me her love of gossip was a well-developed art form even then. Just ask Roberta Marston the first girl in our class to go all the way. And of course, being Cybil, she’s found a way to capitalize on her talent for digging dirt, getting paid handsomely by the Murdochs to write a syndicated international column that’s become a glitterati must read.

The bride in question is Susannah Barker, a long-shot late comer in the race to secure the hand of multimillionaire Robert Walski. Of course she had Althea on her team, which meant the odds were upped considerably despite what the rumormongers (excluding Cybil of course) would have had one believe.

“Honey,” Althea leaned in as well, their noses almost colliding. Dirty martinis are hell on depth perception, “when you’re wearing a size twelve at your wedding – there’s just not a lot a designer can do.” We all looked down at the newspaper Althea had brought. In this case the picture was beyond words.

Judged against the ordinary world, Susannah would be considered attractive, I suppose. But Manhattan is a sea of size twos. I’ve always believed that the reason restaurants open and close with such velocity here is due at least in part to the fact that while most women deign to visit restaurants out of social necessity, they very seldom actually eat anything.

Anyway, suffice it to say that Susannah holds up her end in the support of Manhattan restaurants. However, her size wasn’t the issue here. Her father’s upstate mills were. And when Baxter realized the advantages of his assets merging with hers. Well the rest is history.

But that’s what it’s all about, isn’t it? Finding someone whose social background and financial assets are equal to or enhance yours? All this nonsense about true love and opposites attract is ridiculous at the social strata we’re discussing. Marriage is a merger. It’s as simple as that.

Thank God, or Althea and I would be out of business.

~~~

Kindle Countdown deal starts at 99¢ TODAY. Don’t miss out! Click HERE.

Doesn’t that sound like fun?!!

Bon appetit! Happy reading!

Deb

Posted on

EAT=LOVE=TUESDAY: Dee Davis’s Best Mac ‘n Cheese in NYC

imgres-5

 

In case you missed this fab recipe, here’s a yummy reprise from my friend, Dee Davis.

This Mac + Cheese recipe was voted a New York favorite. And her charming, cosmopolitan book, A Match Made on Madison, is part of a #Kindle Countdown Deal. 5 days only! Grab it today for just 99¢.

“Sometimes love needs a little help!”

Macaroni and Cheese (adapted from recipe from Artisanal Fromagerie and Bistro, NYC)
Recipe Type: American
Cuisine: main dish
Author: Dee Davis
Serves: 6
This classic dish is served at Artisanal Fromagerie & Bistro and is known as “the best macaroni and cheese in town.”
Ingredients
  • 3/4 cup panko bread crumbs
  • 1/4 cup Parmigiano-Reggiano
  • 5 1/2 tablespoons butter
  • 1/4 cup plus 2 tablespoons all-purpose flour
  • 3 cups whole milk
  • salt
  • Black pepper in a mill
  • 3 cups Gruyere or Comte, grated (from 6 to 8 ounces)
  • 1/2 cup mascarpone (can substitute ricotta or farmers cheese)
  • 1lb dry pasta
Instructions
  1. Preheat the oven to 350°F. Pour 2 quarts of water into a 3-quart pot and bring to a boil over high heat.
  2. In a small sauce pan, melt 2 1/2 tablespoons of the butter over low heat. Add the bread crumbs and Parmigiano-Reggiano cheese, toss well, and set aside.
  3. Put the remaining 3 tablespoons butter in a 2-quart, heavy-bottomed saucepan and melt it over low heat. Add the flour and cook for 4 minutes, whisking constantly. Pour in the milk and cook for 4 minutes, whisking constantly. Add 2 teaspoons salt , 4 grinds of pepper (can substitute a shake or two of white pepper), the Gruyere and mascarpone, and continue to whisk until the cheese is well incorporated. Remove the pot from the heat and pour the cheese sauce into a large bowl.
  4. Add 2 tsp salt and the pasta to the boiling water and cook until al dente, approximately 8 minutes. Drain the macaroni in a colander and add it to the bowl with the cheese sauce. Mix well with a wooden spoon. (can just mix in the baking dish if your prefer).
  5. Pour the macaroni mixture into a 13-by-9-inch baking dish. Sprinkle the breadcrumb mixture evenly over the top of the macaroni and cheese. Bake until golden brown and bubbly, approximately 40 minutes. Serve.
  6. Also really good with one bag of Italian grated cheese (Kraft) – 2 cups. And chopped sharp cheddar. About a cup and a half. Instead of the gruyere and mascarpone.

After you’re satiated on the best Mac ‘n Cheese in NYC, you can settle down to read this witty, delightful romp.

A Match Made on Madison

 

91y86DiyjpL._SL1500_

Here’s a snippet:

CHAPTER 1

Bemelmans Bar, The Carlyle Hotel, 35 E. 76th

“Best remembered as the creator of the classic Madeline books for children, Ludwig Bemelmans once joked he’d like his tombstone to read: “Tell Them It Was Wonderful.” Well, wonderful it was, and still is, at Bemelmans Bar. Named in honor of the legendary artist, Bemelmans is a timeless New York watering hole that has drawn socialites, politicians, movie stars and moguls for ”–www. theCarlyle.com

*****

“Another round please.” I signaled the tuxedo-clad waiter with an impervious twist of my hand, the gesture undoubtedly not nearly as regal as I supposed. But then dirty martinis will do that to you. Two is really the limit even for the most dedicated of drinkers. And we’d already had three.

But this was a celebration.

And I wasn’t paying the bill. Which was just as well.

Bemelmans is my idea of heaven when it comes to a bar. Small and intimate, with killer drinks, fiery-hot toasted edamame, and folksy art that puts one in mind of a children’s storybook, it’s absolutely perfect. But you could mortgage a Park Avenue apartment and still not have enough to pay the tab — especially on a martini bender. So better that it was Althea’s headache.

I’d save mine for tomorrow.

Althea Sevalas was my friend, mentor and sometimes rival. In truth, I’d absorbed all she had to teach me with the voracity of the young and hungry and then proceeded to go out and apply what I’d learned on my own.

Actually, I’m making it sound easier than it was. I don’t know that I’d ever have taken the leap, so to speak, if it hadn’t been for Franklin Pierpont’s tendency for dramatic scenes. Franklin is a billionaire geek with absolutely no social skills.

Althea had taken him on in a fit of absolute pity. And when his first match ended in a somewhat less than desirable way, he’d wound up standing on a ledge outside my office window – nineteen floors up. Obviously this sort behavior is not good for the matchmaking business, and Althea, who suffers from vertigo, tasked me with talking him down.

Suffice it to say that it was not one of my favorite assignments, but after showing half of Manhattan my Perele panties, and losing a Manolo to windowsill gymnastics, I managed to talk sense into the man.

Of course it didn’t hurt matters when it turned out that the policewoman who’d come to our rescue was not only a looker but the heir to a computer fortune. A definite sign from on high. So when Althea insisted on taking credit for handling the whole fiasco, I saw the writing on the wall, and with a little help from the Pierpont – policewoman merger, I started my own agency.

Anyway, at first there’d been understandable friction between us. After all I’d walked away with all Althea’s tricks of the trade so to speak. But with a little time she’d realized that Manhattan was big enough for both of us, and albeit warily, accepted me back into her circle of friends.

She wasn’t above twisting the knife a bit now and then though. And having been invited to the wedding of the century was a coup she’d no doubt lord over me for years to come. It was a first, and something I had to admit I aspired to achieve. Not that it was likely.

This was a one on fluke. Matchmakers simply aren’t considered wedding guest material. Too much a reminder of things best forgotten.

Which explains the reason for celebrating. And though it wasn’t really my triumph, I didn’t have a problem swizzling Bemelmans martini’s in Althea’s honor. Of course I’d brought reinforcements – my friend Cybil Baranski.

“So I heard that even though the gown cost half a million, the bride still looked like overfed farm stock.” Cybil adjusted her Oliver Peeple’s frames and leaned forward, eyes sparkling in anticipation.

Cybil and I have been friends since Trinity and believe me her love of gossip was a well-developed art form even then. Just ask Roberta Marston the first girl in our class to go all the way. And of course, being Cybil, she’s found a way to capitalize on her talent for digging dirt, getting paid handsomely by the Murdochs to write a syndicated international column that’s become a glitterati must read.

The bride in question is Susannah Barker, a long-shot late comer in the race to secure the hand of multimillionaire Robert Walski. Of course she had Althea on her team, which meant the odds were upped considerably despite what the rumormongers (excluding Cybil of course) would have had one believe.

“Honey,” Althea leaned in as well, their noses almost colliding. Dirty martinis are hell on depth perception, “when you’re wearing a size twelve at your wedding – there’s just not a lot a designer can do.” We all looked down at the newspaper Althea had brought. In this case the picture was beyond words.

Judged against the ordinary world, Susannah would be considered attractive, I suppose. But Manhattan is a sea of size twos. I’ve always believed that the reason restaurants open and close with such velocity here is due at least in part to the fact that while most women deign to visit restaurants out of social necessity, they very seldom actually eat anything.

Anyway, suffice it to say that Susannah holds up her end in the support of Manhattan restaurants. However, her size wasn’t the issue here. Her father’s upstate mills were. And when Baxter realized the advantages of his assets merging with hers. Well the rest is history.

But that’s what it’s all about, isn’t it? Finding someone whose social background and financial assets are equal to or enhance yours? All this nonsense about true love and opposites attract is ridiculous at the social strata we’re discussing. Marriage is a merger. It’s as simple as that.

Thank God, or Althea and I would be out of business.

~~~

Kindle Countdown deal starts at 99¢ TODAY. Don’t miss out! Click HERE.

Doesn’t that sound like fun?!!

Bon appetit! Happy reading!

Deb

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Cool Friends/Hot August Snippets – DIRE DISTRACTION

COOL FRIENDS/HOT AUGUST READS!

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Congrats to, Kim P., winner of my July Hot Summer Reading with Friends Contest.

My August CONTEST opens up a whole lot more choices of great books to pick from, PLUS, you’ll still receive a $25 gift card from #Amazon, #BN or #iTunes.

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To introduce you to these authors and their awesome books, I thought I’d give you “snippets” pulled straight from the stories. ENJOY!

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We start with Dee Davis’s DIRE DISTRACTION, part of her extremely popular A-Tac series. 

As the commander for A-Tac, a black-ops CIA unit masquerading as Ivy League faculty, Avery Solomon is the best of the best. He’ll stop at nothing to ensure the safety of his team, but when a mystery from the past resurfaces, he puts himself directly in the line of fire.

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“All right, chow is served,” Avery Solomon said, setting a platter of burgers on the game table in his living room.  “First pitch is in five.  So fill up your plate and grab a seat.”

“Angels are going to kill,” Drake Flynn said, sliding two burgers onto his plate along with a healthy serving of potato salad.  “Just so you guys are prepared.”   He settled on the sofa and reached for his beer.

“In your dreams, surfer boy,” Nash Brennon laughed, dropping into an armchair as strains of the Star-Spangled Banner resounded from the surround-sound system.  “Yankees rule.”

“Most of the time.  But this year your pitching sucks, and we’ve got Pojuls.”

“And not much else,” Avery said, settling into a chair.  It was good to have some down time.  Of late, it seemed like A-Tac had been spending a hell of a lot of time chasing after ghosts.  Most of them sent by their nemesis, a secretive arms cartel known as the Consortium.  And despite the fact that they’d managed to win most of the battles, the cost had been high.

Too high, if he had to call it.

But it was what it was, and there was nothing he could do to change the past.  Best to focus on the future.  And in the moment, the things that made it all worthwhile.  Baseball, beer, burgers, and good friends.

“Where’s Harrison?” Nash asked, taking a sip from a bottle of Shiner Bock.   The beer, a Texas import, was a favorite.  And Harrison Blake, recently back from a job consulting with drug enforcement agents about an operation on the Mexican border, had brought Avery a case.  “I thought he was supposed to be here.”

“He is.”  Drake nodded.  “But he also just got back from almost a month away.  And if Hannah is anything like Madeline, let’s just say absence really does make the heart…” he trailed off, waggling his eyebrows for effect.

“Jesus, Drake.”  Nash blew out a disgusted breath.  “Do you ever think of anything besides sex?”

“Yeah.  Baseball and beer.”  Drake grinned, lifting his bottle. “The trifecta, of course being all three at once.”

“Good luck with that,” Nash snorted, shaking his head.

Avery watched his friends, suddenly feeling too damned old.  This business had a way of sucking the life right out of you, particularly when they were dealing with the Consortium.  He’d been with American Tactical Intelligence command for more than ten years now.

A black ops division of the CIA, his team was the best of the best.  Using Sunderland College as their cover, everyone did double duty as both operatives and professors.  And all of them were more than capable of carrying the load.

Nash, a noted historical scholar, was also his second in command.  Drake, a renowned archeologist handled extractions and logistics. Harrison headed the IT department and managed to work magic with computer forensics for the team.  Hannah Marshall taught political science and sorted through intel, pulling nuggets of crucial information seemingly from thin air.  Tyler Hansen rounded out the team, mixing a love of literature with an uncanny ability to both create and dismantle ordnance.  All in all, an extraordinary group of people he was proud to call family.

Avery took another sip of his beer, turning his attention to the TV.  The first Angels batter was up with C.C. Sabathia on the mound for the Yankees.

Behind them, the doorbell rang.

“Harrison,” Nash said, shooting a sideways glance at Drake as he bit into a burger.  “Told you he’d be here.”

“It’s open,” Avery called.  C.C. threw a curve ball for strike three.

“Sorry I’m late,” Harrison said, something in his expression sending alarm bells jangling.   “I sort of got sidetracked.”   He held up a mangled looking black box, his eyes telegraphing regret.

“Dude, you’re not supposed to be working,” Drake protested.  “The Angels are playing the Yankees.  Where I’m from that’s almost sacrosanct.”

“Big word, Drake,” Nash said, turning to look at Harrison, his eyes narrowing at the sight of the black box in Harrison’s hand.

Apparently Avery wasn’t the only one to sense that something was up.

Never late for the party, Drake swiveled around, looked first at Harrison, then at Avery and then back at Harrison again, the game forgotten.  “You’ve pulled something off the drive.”

The mangled hard drive had been recovered in an abandoned terrorist encampment in Afghanistan.  A-Tac had received intel about the possibility of a Consortium-funded operation, but when they’d arrived, the camp had been abandoned, everything of consequence removed or destroyed.

Except for a notebook that had helped them stop an assassination attempt.  And the remains of the hard drive.  Avery hadn’t doubted for a minute that if there was recoverable information, Harrison would find it.  But he’d also been fairly certain that there wouldn’t be anything left to find.

Clearly he’d been wrong.

“I’m sorry,” Harrison said.  “I know the timing sucks.”  As if to underscore the sentiment, the solid swack of bat-meeting-ball echoed through the room, but nobody turned to look. Not even Drake.  “But you’re going to want to see this.”

 Harrison’s gaze locked with Avery’s, and suddenly he wasn’t all that certain he wanted to know.   But there was nothing to be gained in putting off the inevitable.  Whatever the Consortium had in store for them next, he was ready.

“Okay then,” Avery said, switching the TV off with the remote, then pushing the burgers out of the way as they all gathered around the table, “what have you got?”

“It’s a little startling.”  Harrison paused, clearly searching for the right words.  “And kind of personal.”  His gaze met Avery’s.  “You might want to hear this on your own.”

Avery shook his head, crossing his arms over his chest.  “We’re all family here.  So tell us what you’ve found.”

Harrison hooked the box up to his laptop and hit a key.  A woman’s face filled the screen.  Her dark hair curled around her face, brown eyes glittering with some unshared emotion, her generous mouth giving nothing away.

Avery’s heart stopped.  His breath stuck in his throat.   And he felt as if someone had just kicked him in the gut.

She was dressed in fatigues, standing next to a bearded man leaning against a table, his hand resting intimately on her knee.  “Sweet Jesus,” Avery said, the words strangled.  “This was on the back-up drive we found in Afghanistan?”

“Yeah.”  Harrison nodded, his face filled with worry.  “I was just as surprised as you are.”

“Is that?” Drake said, turning to Nash who was staring open-mouthed at the photograph.

“Yeah.”  Nash nodded.  “Martin Shrum.  Avery’s old partner.  From before A-Tac days. And Evangeline, Avery’s wife.  But I thought she was—”

“Dead,” Avery finished, emotion cutting through him as he caressed the ring he wore on his little finger.  “She is.  For almost fourteen years now.”

“Yeah, well, Avery, there’s more.”  Harrison clicked the picture so that it zoomed in and then moved it so that they could better see the table behind the two people.  “Look at the wall.”  He enlarged the picture again.

“It’s a calendar,” Drake said, stating the obvious.

Avery’s blood ran cold, his eyes reading the date, his mind trying to process the seemingly impossible.

 “Holy shit,” Drake continued, his incredulity only adding to the surrealistic horror of the moment.  “It’s dated December of last year.”

Good luck to everyone who signs up for this CONTEST. I hope your friends are as COOL as mine, and your hot August nights are filled with fun and good books! Look for more Snippets all month long.

Deb 

 

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Hot Summer Snippets III (Dee Davis)

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*****DISCLAIMER****

My July contest is called Hot Summer Reads. One winner will be able to pick two titles from the six awesome choices. To introduce you to these authors and their books, I thought I’d give you “snippets” pulled straight from the stories, however…

HOT means these snippets are meant

for an ADULT audience.

***If you’re under 18–or offended by adult content–stop reading. My regularly scheduled PG-13 blogs will continue on days other than Mondays and Thursdays. Are we good?***

~~~~~~~

Today’s SNIPPET features our newest member of On Fire Fiction, best-selling author Dee Davis. DOUBLE DANGER is part of Dee’s exciting, A-Tac series. Here’s the blurb: As the newest member of A-Tac, a black-ops CIA unit masquerading as Ivy League faculty, ex-SEAL Simon Kincaid races against the clock to save lives—and outrun his wrenching past. But preventing a major terrorist attack will plunge him and the one woman he’s never forgotten into a desperate fight for survival.

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SNIPPET:

New York City, Hospital for Special Surgery

“So on a scale of one to ten, how would you rank the pain?” Dr. Weinman asked as he probed the deep scars running across Simon’s thigh.

“Three,” Simon said, fighting against a grimace, pain radiating up into his hip.

“So a six.”  The doctor released the leg and scribbled something on his chart.

Simon opened his mouth to argue, but Weinman smiled.  “Look, I’ve been patching up people like you for most of my career.  Which means  I’m more than aware, that in  your world, a three would definitely be a six for the rest of us.  God’s honest truth, probably more like an eight or nine.”

“Apples to oranges,” Simon said, his smile bitter.  “The rest of you wouldn’t have a leg full of shrapnel.  So am I cleared for duty?”   The long hike through the Afghan mountains plus the stress of the firefight had aggravated his injury, his pronounced limp causing Avery to send him to the orthopedist for a look-see.

“Yeah.”  Weinman shrugged.  “You’re good to go.  There’s no new damage.  But I’m afraid as long as you insist on engaging in the kind of work you do, there’s always going to be risk.  And sooner or later, there’s going to be additional injury.  So it’s not a matter of if, but when.”

“Nothing I didn’t already know,” Simon said, jumping off the table to get dressed.

“I assume you’re still working with the PT?” the doctor asked, glancing up over the top of his glasses.

“Actually, I’m not.  With the new job, there just isn’t time to come all the way into the city.  But Sunderland has a great gym.  And I’ve memorized the moves by now.  So it’s easy enough for me to work out on my own.”

“Well, I suppose that’ll have to do,” the doctor said, still scribbling in the chart.  “Just be careful not to push too hard.  Do you need something for the pain?”

“No, I’m good.”  Simon shook his head, as he shrugged into his shirt.  The pain meds only dulled his brain, slowing his reflexes.  And in his line of work, that wasn’t an option.  Besides, he prided himself on being tough.

“There’s nothing dishonorable about managing pain,” Weinman said, correctly reading Simon’s train of thought.

“Look, I said I’m fine.”  Simon blew out a breath, forcing a smile.  The doc was only trying to help.

And if Simon were truly being honest, he’d have to admit that sometimes, in the middle of the night when the pain threatened to overwhelm him, the pills were his only ticket to oblivion.  But he’d seen what had happened to men he’d fought with when the meds had taken control.  And he wasn’t about to let himself go there.  No matter how fucking much it hurt.

“It’s up to you.” Weinman shrugged, closing the chart and rising to his feet.  “But if you change your mind, I’m only a telephone call away.”

“Good to know.  But I’ll be okay.”

“All right then.  We’re done.”  Weinman paused, his gaze assessing.  “Until next time.”   Leaving the words hanging, he turned and left the room, and Simon blew out a long breath.

The bottom line was that he knew he was on borrowed time.  His injuries had been severe enough to force him out of the SEALs.  And sooner or later, they were probably going to mean an end to his career with A-Tac, at least in the field.

But for now, he was determined to carry-on.  He was a soldier.  Pure and simple.  And just because he could no longer be a SEAL, he didn’t have to settle for some piddly-ass desk job.  A-Tac was as good as it got when it came to working counter-terrorism.  And he was lucky to have found a home there.

And he sure as hell wasn’t going to fuck it up by letting his injury get in the way.  Anyway, all that mattered now was that he was good to go.  Which meant he could get back to Sunderland—and the hunt for the Consortium.

He walked out of the exam room, striding down the hall, ignoring the twinge of pain shooting up his leg.   Compared to a couple of years ago, this was a cake-walk.   And the way he figured, another year and it would hardly be noticeable.  Everyone in his line of work lived with injury. It was part of the package.  It just wasn’t something most people could understand.   Their idea of the fast lane was eating fried food on a Saturday night—his was perpetrating a raid on an Afghan terrorist encampment.

He waved at the receptionist as he walked through the waiting room and pushed through the doors of the clinic.   Dr. Weinman’s offices were on an upper floor of the hospital, the corridor leading to the elevator lined with windows looking out over the FDR and the East River. Outside, beyond the congestion of traffic, the river was flowing out toward the harbor.  A tugboat, barge in tow, was making its laborious way up stream.  Above the swiftly flowing water, the skyline of Long Island City stood illuminated against the bold blue sky.

It was the kind of day that made a kid want to skip school. And suddenly Simon was struck with the thought that everything was right with his world, the past firmly behind him and the future beckoning bright.   It had been a long time since he’d felt hopeful about anything.   Hell, with his past who could blame him.  But maybe it was time to move on.  There wasn’t much point in letting the past or the future, for that matter, hold too much sway.  Better to live in the now.

He laughed at the philosophical turn of his thoughts.  Had to be the hospital.  All that life and death crap.   He stopped for a moment at the door to a large waiting room.  Inside a small army of what looked like nurses were triaging patients, most of them non-ambulatory with bleeding wounds and broken limbs.

Of course, the blood was fake, and the moaning and groaning more about theatrics than pain.  A disaster drill.  He’d seen a notice in the elevator on the way up.  Judging from the chaos ensuing inside the room, he’d have to assume it wasn’t going all that well.  But if it been the real thing, the hysteria would have been much worse. But this was just play-acting, and thankfully, he didn’t have a role to play.   With a rueful smile, he turned to go, then stopped, his brain conjuring the picture of a blue-eyed, blonde in blue scrubs.

Frowning, he turned around again, certain that image must be wrong, that his mind had merely super-imposed a memory onto a stranger.  He rubbed his leg absently as his gaze settled again on the woman.  She had her back to him, her sun-streaked pony-tail bobbing as she talked to another woman wearing scrubs.  She was waving her hands, her slim fingers giving additional meaning to her words.

Even from behind, he knew that his instinct had been dead on.   It was in the way she stood, the way she moved.  He’d have known her anywhere.  And then she turned, as if somehow she’d felt his presence, her eyes widening in surprise and then shuttering as she recognized him.

His mind screamed retreat, but his feet moved forward, taking him across the room until they were standing inches apart.  Behind her, out the window, he could still see the river, the blue of the sky almost the same color as her eyes.

“J.J.?” he queried, the words coming out a gruff whisper, his mind and body still on overdrive as he tried to make sense of her being here in New York.

“I go by Jillian now,” she said, her voice just as he’d remembered.  Low and throaty.  Sexy.  “It’s easier.”   There was touch of bitterness in her words and a tightness around her mouth that he’d never seen before.

He paused, not exactly sure what to say.  It had been a long time.   And he hadn’t thought he’d see her again.   Memories flooded through him.  The smell of her hair.  The feel of her skin beneath his fingers.   An image of her standing with Ryan in her wedding dress, eyes full of questions, Simon’s heart shriveling as he chose loyalty over everything else.

J.J. was Ryan’s girl.  She’d always been his.   Since they were practically kids.  And one drunken night couldn’t change that fact.   Ryan was his best friend.

And he’d failed him twice.  Once an eon ago at a college party, and the second time, years later, in a compound in Somalia.  He’d managed to avert disaster the first time, common sense and loyalty overriding his burgeoning libido.  But in Somalia, he hadn’t been so lucky, and because of his decisions, Ryan was dead.   J.J. had lost her husband.  And there was nothing Simon could do to make it right.

“I can’t believe you’re standing here,” he said, shaking his head.  “It’s been a while since I saw you last.”

“Four years,” she replied, the words a recrimination.

“You look the same,” he said wishing to hell he’d never seen her.  He didn’t need this.

Again she laughed, but this time with humor.  “You always were a flatterer.”

“Yeah, well, I guess some things never change,” he said, studying her face.  There were faint lines at the corners of her eyes and mouth.  And her hair was longer and slightly darker than before.  But over all, she looked like the girl he remembered.   Except for the smile.

J.J. had always been smiling.  Or at least that’s the way he’d chosen to remember her.   But the last time he’d seen her, she’d been anything but happy.  He remembered the pain on her face as she’d accepted the flag that had been draped across Ryan’s casket.   Simon had promised to come by later that day.  But instead he’d left town.  And never looked back.

“You look good, too,” she said, her eyes moving across his face.  “So what brings you to the hospital?”

“Check-up,” he sighed, absently rubbing his injured leg.  “But it’s all good.  I’m healthy as a horse.” And babbling like a fucking idiot.  She’d always been able to reduce him to baser levels.

“I’m glad,” she said.  “I heard you left the team.”

“Didn’t have much of a choice.”  He shrugged.  “But I landed on my feet, and I’m doing okay.  What about you?  You a nurse now?”

“Something like that,” she nodded.  “Speaking of which, I suppose I ought to be getting back to it.”

“Right,” he said, the silence that followed stretching awkwardly between them.

And then with an apologetic shrug, she turned back to her ‘patients,’ and Simon forced himself to walk away.  Hell, the past was better left buried.  Hadn’t he just been having that exact thought?

He stepped back into the corridor, and then despite himself, turned for a last look.  She was bending over a man with a rudimentary splint on his arm, her fingers gentle as she probed the imaginary wound.

Almost involuntarily, his gaze rose to the window, his senses sending out an alert.  A high-pitched whine filled the room, the glass on the windows shaking.  The sky disappeared as the window turned black.  For a moment everything seemed to move in slow motion.  And then, all hell broke loose as the windows shattered and something rammed through the side of the building, the walls shredding like corrugated cardboard.

People screamed, and Simon called her name.  “J.J.—Jillian.”

One minute she was standing there, eyes wide with confusion and fear, and the next—she was gone.

 

Oh, my! What an ending! My heart is thumping. I can’t wait to read more!

Good luck to everyone who signs up for this contest.

Deb 

PS: you can check out all the books in Dee’s A-Tac series here: Dee Davis.